On a New Path
by Chaos's Prototype
Summary: The trials of the past have left us all scarred and changed, making this new path we are on a difficult one indeed. (Sequel to "Bonds to be Reforged")


**A/N: This is actually a re-write of ****_Not All Bad_****, which makes this the real sequel of ****_Bonds to be Reforged_****. This takes place immediately after that fic, which a month or so after my headcanon KH III.**

**SPOILERS: For ****_Birth by Sleep_****, ****_Kingdom Hearts II_****, and ****_Dream Drop Distance_****.**

_**XxXxXxXxX**_

"_Master_?"

Ansem does not even have to turn around; it's Zexion-no, Ienzo now. It is a difficult habit to correct, referring to them as their darkness-ridden counterparts. Perhaps it is even more so with Ienzo, as he resembles Zexion in everything barring character and Ansem has not seen his original in any form other than a young boy.

He hardly has time to sort the lingering thoughts of old goals from new ones before Ienzo is running out of the room, shouting at people who Ansem can only assume are the rest of his former apprentices. "Pro-Professor! It's the Master, he—_Professor_!"

It briefly crosses Ansem's mind that the others-Even, at least–cannot be far if Ienzo expects them to hear him. And they are not far, truly, or at least not by the time he follows. It does not immediately strike him just where they have gathered, least of all why it might be a bit odd that they have picked this room of all places to meet him again. It certainly is not the first thing he realizes, not when he can clearly see that none of them seem willing to come closer than halfway across the room and that Braig is not among them. Though he expected that last detail, if he is to be honest.

This is why he jumps when someone in a familiar guardsman's uniform slings an arm around his shoulder, having apparently been hiding behind the door Ansem entered through. "How's it going, Prof? Miss us?" The other man is grinning wildly, in a manner eerily reminiscent of days long since passed.

When Ansem does not answer right away, Braig goes on with, "Aw, _c'mon_, the answer's not _no_, is it? These guys've been waiting for you to get back for about a year now! And me too, for—" he breaks off abruptly, glancing up at the ceiling for a few moments in thought. "A month or so? Give or take. Point being: You've had _plenty _of time to—"

"Braig," Aeleus cuts him off with a single word, more said with a warning glance than could have been accurately summarized in speech.

"Well, I'm not wrong, am I?" Braig challenges, pulling his arm away from Ansem to gesture to the man himself. "He's been up and about here long enough to find us if he wanted to. It's not like we're even _trying _to hide out. You ask anybody in the Garden about us and they'll point you to the castle. Along with a few choice words, of course."

_He always was one to tempt fate. I suppose some things never change. _"My goal is no longer to seek your destruction." He will not mince words with them. Not ever again.

Save a triumphant look from Braig, there is little reaction to his words. They do give him more of their attention, this is true, but there is no surprise or accusations—though they are unfit to issue them—or any other such knee jerk reaction. It does not quite startle him, but it is enough to give him pause.

"...What is it then?" Ienzo asks hesitantly, nervously.

Ansem does not reply immediately, first taking a moment to take in the room when he notices something familiar about it. When he realizes just _where _he is, he stops short, hardly believing his own eyes. This is his old study, despite how much it has been worn down since he has last seen it, with faded diagrams from so many years ago still scrawled across the walls.

Perhaps noticing Ansem's reaction, or perhaps merely attempting the fill the silence that has fallen over the room, Ienzo gestures to a large piece of material—the type of which Ansem cannot determine—duct taped to the wall, saying, "Please ignore that, if you would, Master. We did not have much else to cover the, ahem, remnants of our former research; it's only a temporary solution."

"Yeah," Braig cuts in, growling, "until the stupid Reconstruction Committee decides to let us have some freaking _paint_." Muttering, he adds, "Won't even let us _buy _the stuff..."

Taking just a moment longer to gather himself, mostly ignoring the quiet bickering starting up between Braig and Even, Ansem starts, "I've come at an attempt to reconcile, despite the past. Or, rather," he corrects himself. "to _offer _the attempt. Whether or not you choose to accept it is hardly in my control."

They grow quiet again, until Braig interrupts it with, "So, you're _sure _you're done with the whole 'Darkness in Zero' deal? And, y'know, that this isn't some elaborate trick to take us out when we least expect it?" It's rather hard to tell if the man is being serious or not, particularly when he adds interestedly, "_Hey_, that's not a terrible idea."

He seems to take it back when Dilan smacks him on the back of his head.

"I didn't say he should _use _it..."

Once again ignoring him, as he was once used to doing so, Ansem nods. "Unless you choose to take advantage of the situation in such a way, such a plot is certainly far from my own mind."

They seem to be at least partially satisfied by this, or so the bit of tension that dissipates would indicate.

"We have no plans to repeat past mistakes," Aeleus assures him, his voice firm as it always is.

"We've already begun disposing of what we can, as far as our previous research is concerned," Ienzo explains, indicating a large pile only partially hidden by the study's desk. "Some of it is slightly more difficult than the rest, but..." Sighing, he mutters, "It's a process."

As are the desperately necessary repairs of the castle, evidently. Supplies, as well as damaged equipment and materials, are scattered even over the little he has seen of the grounds. Ansem does not mention this, merely nodding in acceptance. "It will likely be a long one, but it is a necessity. My own experiments proved both entirely unsuccessful, as well as dangerous to all involved."

"As did our own," Ienzo agrees, nearly getting cut off when Even demands, "You _continued _the research?"

"Not in the same manner as you," Ansem argues, entirely—or at the very least, close enough to nearly count—unaffected by the expressions the former apprentices wear.

"You—You had _our _work shut down, and yet you had the _audacity _to _continue _it?!"

Aeleus yanks Even back by the collar of his lab coat, nearly pulling the enraged man to the ground with the force. "It is in the past," he grinds out, though he does not seem to be entirely free of irritation himself.

Vainly, Even attempts to pull out of his grip, struggling as he curses at the stronger man, still spitting accusations at Ansem.

What Aeleus says next to him, so quietly Ansem cannot so much as guess at the words spoken, makes him stop shouting, though he still argues with Aeleus in angry, hushed whispers.

Yes, this path ahead of them will surely be a difficult one.


End file.
